


Dreams Of Lieseil

by TwilightCrown



Category: Palaye Royale (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 02:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19416502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightCrown/pseuds/TwilightCrown
Summary: Look to the boy that never gets old, as the tales of Lieseil they unfold...(A story about Lieseil Inc's first experiment, and how it went horribly wrong.)





	1. Scream In My Ear, Can't Hear A Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I've been thinking about writing a Patient X story for a while now, and the new songs and videos have given me the motivation to do so. This will mainly be based off my theories about the new songs and how they link to the songs in Boom Boom Room. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Will be edited often.)
> 
> Chapter title is from Fucking With My Head.

Remington was restless. Bouncing his leg, chewing on his nails - it was driving his brothers mad, but he was full of so much nervous energy. Something was wrong. He knew, deep in his gut. Something was very wrong.

To his right, Sebastian laid casually across the sofa, his guitar resting on his stomach. He plucked lazy notes, repeating a simple, peaceful melody. On the other side of the room, Emerson was lost in his own world, a pencil in hand and pieces of paper littering the dining table. It was one of those days, Remington knew, where boredom crept up on you, and nothing you did could push it away. He should probably take a walk to clear his head - it's a lovely day, after all - but he couldn't bring himself to leave the house.

( _be careful_ )

"Here," Sebastian had said at one point during the day, placing a glass of some sort of alcohol in from of him. "To ease your mind."

Remington had been staring absently at it for a while now, almost not seeing it. His mind couldn't calm down, his thoughts a blur. The anxious voice in his head grows louder by the minute, to the point where he feels like screaming. He couldn't take it any more. He swipes the glass up, downing the alcohol in one, barely even tasting it, but welcoming the burning feeling in his throat. It's nice to focus on something else other than his thoughts, if only for a moment.

Sebastian stops playing, staring at him with a raised eyebrow. Remington doesn't even look at him. He doesn't realise how tight he was grasping the glass until Seb gently takes it from him, placing it far out of his reach. He almost jumps out of his skin when Seb pats his shoulder, a concerned frown on his face, but his brother doesn't say anything, before taking his guitar and heading outside. This has happened a few times in the past: Rem's anxiety sneaks up on him, and there is nothing that can calm him, so his brothers have given up trying. All they can do is let Rem ride it out, and just be there, should he need anything. Of course, Sebastian always shows his love by sharing alcohol, and for good or for bad, Rem takes it, hoping it will make a difference. Sometimes, it does.

Today, though. Today was different. It was worse this time. He couldn't seem to stop shaking. His thoughts kept latching onto things he shouldn't even be worrying about. Lieseil Inc. As long as he abides by their rules, he should be fine. His brothers should be fine.

( _be careful_ )

They were in his head. They were watching him. They know, they know, how did they know?

( _they're here_ )

Remington has voiced his issues to Emerson, knowing his wise little brother would not judge him. Em never judges him, and always helps him feel better. But, oddly, whenever Rem would talk about Lieseil, and how sometimes it scares him to death the power that company has, his little brother would act off. There was no judgement, which was good... he was just _off_. Maybe he was scared too, but didn't want to talk about it?

He couldn't bare to sit for much longer. Rem swiftly stands, striding to the foyer. Emerson's head pops up, distracted by his sudden movement, but like Seb, leaves him alone. He wasn't sure if he appreciated that right now. He feels on the verge of a nervous breakdown, his anxiety intensifying, but why? Why? Why?

( _they're here with me and you and they're watching_ )

The floor of the foyer is cold. He lays down on his back, glaring at the chandelier, letting the icy feel wash over him, hoping that it can calm him. The voice was so loud that he had no choice but to clamp his hands to his ears, squeezing his eyes shut.

( _do they know? do they know?_ )

( _that my voice keeps you awake_ )

( _that i'm always watching you_ )

"Get the _fuck_ out my head!" Remington yells, jolting upright. They're just fucking with him, they're just fucking with his head, he knows they are, they have to be, they have to be, they have to be!

( _can they hear me?_ )

When the voice in his head screams, so does Remington. So deafening, so piercing. He screams louder than the voice, desperately wishing for some peace of mind, for it to all go away...

"Rem?" Emerson's soft voice calls out, distressed.

He couldn't. He couldn't look up. Curled in on himself, hands tugging at his spiked hair, he could barely hear his brother over the noise. Rem tenses when Em lightly grips his wrists, easing his hands away from his hair.

"Rem, look at me."

Remington shook his head, eyes closed. He clenches his fists, weakly tries to pull away from Emerson's grip.

"Remi, please. Talk to me."

"Just leave me alone," he whispers, trembling. "I... I just... I need... to - to - to deal with... this alone..."

Regardless of if Em heard him, he pulled Remington into his arms, gently stroking his hair. It was a warm, soothing embrace. Emerson was always very gentle. But his brother didn't _understand_ , they were everywhere and they were _watching_ them.

"No!" Rem pulls away, scrambling to his feet. Emerson remains knelt on the floor, gazing up at him with a sombre expression. "No, no no no, you don't..."

Em was calling out to him, but he wasn't listening. Remington raced up the stairs, spiralling up to his room. He had to get away, he couldn't let his brothers near him, they were watching him, they would get his brothers. He couldn't let them take his brothers.

Rem pulled his door shut, slumping to the floor. He pulls his knees to his chest, fingers massaging his temples. The voice had calmed a little. That was good. That was what he wanted. If he could stay here, while it ceased, then it couldn't hurt his brothers, not while he was alone. Yes. He would stay here.

It seemed like hours before Rem could finally hear blissful silence. No more voice. No more anxiety. His fear has died down. He should talk to Em. Yes, he should apologise, and maybe let him help. He knows Emerson will be worried, and Seb will be too, if Em told him, which he likely has. He can't help but feel a little embarrassed, though. He'd acted childish, his actions fuelled by terror that no one brought on him but himself. 

Oh well.

He jumped slightly at the sound of his door opening. Remington sighs. His back was to the door, so he couldn't see who it was. In the hopes that it was his little brother, he started, "Em, I'm sorry for earlier, I'm sorry -"

Rem lets out a muffled yell when his vision goes dark, his head yanked backwards. A large mass pins his thin body down, and he fights back violently, kicking and lashing his fists out. Someone has _blindfolded_ him, and he cried out for Emerson, for Sebastian, for someone to help him, but no one comes.

( _no one cares_ )

They held him by the legs, dragging him out of his room. The blindfold fell off, allowing him to see his attacker. Dressed in all black, with a gas mask covering their face, they pulled him down the stairs, his head painfully crashing into every step. Remington kicks as much as he could, grunting with the effort.

The attacker drops him, tired of his flailing. Rem tries to scramble away, heart thrashing against his ribs. Before he could get away, something hard collides with his head, forcing his face against the wooden stairs.

Images flash through his mind. A figure dances around, dressed in a bloody hospital gown. He couldn't see their face, and they soon faded into the shadows. A voice whispered, brushing through his head like a soft breeze.

 _You never really know in which direction progress lies_...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this!
> 
> I have the rest of the story planned, and I have started writing it, but I might wait until Nervous Breakdown is released before I post any more parts. Just because I would like to see if I could fit that in the story anywhere. So in the mean time, I guess I'll just keep editing and writing!
> 
> I apologise for any long waits between chapters.
> 
> Love the void. X


	2. I Guess That's Why I Live In Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _They will burn your beds and leave you with anxiety._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Nervous Breakdown.

Alone. He was alone.

Remington jerked awake, sitting up immediately. He raised his hands, expecting the attacker to be there, looming over him. But... there was nothing. No hands grabbing him, no more kicks to the head. He realised he was alone, and his head started to hurt. A lot.

( _please don't take me in there_ )

Unease fluttered in his stomach. A dim, yellow light bulb cast the room in a eerie light. The bed he found himself upon was hard, the springs making the mattress lumpy. A small crimson circle stained the white pillow, and when Remington touched his nose, his fingers came away bloody. In the far corner sat a bin, the metal turned almost green and spotted with rust. Opposite him, the door stood large and wooden and closed. When he moved over to it, pushing and kicking, it remained still. It was locked.

( _i'll never get out_ )

( _what happens to me now?_ )

"Em?" He whispered to himself. "Seb?" His hands trembled when he grabbed onto his jacket sleeves, perching on the bed. Where were his brothers? What happened to them? Surely they must have heard the struggle between him and the attacker. Surely, if they were okay, they would have helped him, or are searching for him now. Unless...

( _lieseil and warhol will burn your beds_ )

Remington yanked at his hair, anger bubbling and worry stirring. They saw, they knew. He had let them in, they saw through him, he was sure of it, they were watching him, they fucked with his head and it was his fault, his fault his brothers were hurt, his fault, his fault, his fault!

( _leave you with anxiety_ )

How could he have let this happen? Stupid. So, so stupid. It didn't matter that they got him, he doesn't care. They've hurt his brothers, they've hurt sweet Emerson and they've hurt strong Sebastian. So stupid. He growls, storms over to the door, raises his fists, blinded by rage, lashing out, once, twice - but stops himself, his anger draining away, replaced by curiosity. Something had caught his eyes.

Was that... a camera?

In the corner of the room, about the same height as his head, a tiny black square pokes out of the yellowing walls. Remington shuffles over to it, staring. It _is_ a camera, implanted in the walls, almost unnoticeable. 

( _they're always watching_ )

Almost as soon as he notices, an odd smoke starts to filter into the room. Remington couldn't quite tell where it was coming from, except for that it was filling up the room rather quickly. He coughed, waving it away from his face, but when he took a step forward, he staggered into the wall, the floor swaying beneath his feet. Lightheaded, Rem tried to get to the bed. He barely remembered falling, absently noting how cold the floor felt against his warm cheek, how stars danced across his vision.

The icy cold water jolted him back to reality. Freezing water, unexpectedly enveloping him. He flails, gripping onto something plastic by his side. Bath tub. He was in a small bath tub, stripped of all clothes except his underwear. His hair felt damp, thick; when he raised his hand to his head, he recognised the product immediately. Hair dye. Remington sighed. Shame, he liked being blonde.

Rem whipped his head around, taking in the new surroundings. The room was dark so he couldn't see a lot, but he definitely saw the person standing behind him, watching him, a gun in their hands. He nearly jumped out of his skin, staring at them with a little fear. They dressed almost identically to the attacker: dark jumpsuit, gas mask. This one had long brown hair spilling out from behind the mask. Strangely, it reminded him of Curcio.

He turned back, trembling slightly at the thought of the gun. Embarrassment crept up on him - Rem felt so exposed, so vulnerable, so uncomfortable. Not that the soldier probably cared that he was practically naked in a bath tub. Just knowing, truly _knowing_ , that Lieseil has got him and taken him away from everything and everyone he cares about... it made his skin crawl.

( _burn your beds and leave you with anxiety_ )

( _i will protect you_ )

( _close your eyes, or they will see me_ )

( _can they hear me? shall i scream louder?_ )

There was a reason why Rem lived with his brothers, with Luis and Daniel, and there was a reason why Larisa was moving in and why Monica and Shy and Austin visit practically every day. He hates being alone for long periods of time. With so many people around, there is no time for him to pay attention to the voice in his mind. It's drowned out by his friends and family, but every so often, it creeps up on him, and his anxiety is thrown through the roof. 

Like now. Except now, he's alone. His brothers are not here. His friends are not here. It's just him and the voice, and he can't stop it from growing louder.

( _i am everywhere_ )

Remington pulls his knees to his chest, tugging on his hair. Chewing hard on his lip, trembling hard, he desperately wishes for the voice to stop, to go away. His muscles soon ache from tensing, and he finds it hard to breathe, his heart thumping against his ribs, picking up speed rapidly. He wants nothing more than to see Emerson, to see Sebastian, to drown in one of Em's comforting hugs and to drink some of Seb's gin, and for the voice to _get the fuck out of his head_.

He tried his hardest not to scream again.

( _lieseil controls us all now_ )

( _the eyes are always watching_ )

"Shut the fuck up!" Rem yells, slamming his hand down into the water. Then, softer, on the verge of tears, "please stop." Reaches out. For what? For Emerson. For Sebastian. For home. For a better peace of mind.

He could feel the nervous breakdown coming. It was already here, already here, already here...

The soldier stomps around to his right. They keep the gun lowered, and their face was completely obscured, but their words rung out harsh and sharp. "Out. Get out."

Remington stares at them, as if they were an alien. It takes a moment for him to register the real, actual voice, processing it slowly, then meekly obeys. He briefly dips his head under the murky waters, rubbing the dye out, before rising on unsteady feet, shivering. The soldier shoves a small towel at him, which he takes hesitantly. Once dry, they snatch it from him, replacing it with soft, pure white clothing. A simple t-shirt and loose, pyjama bottoms. Rem slips them on, stumbling under the piercing gaze of the soldier. 

No sooner had he stood up straight did they forcibly grab his wrists, swiftly locking them in handcuffs. Before he could lash out, infuriated, the soldier takes hold of him arm, dragging him over to the door. "Move," they bark, opening the door. A second soldier takes his other arm, so Remi had no choice but to let them take him to wherever they were going to keep him.

They took him down long corridors, transporting him like a prisoner. Remington wasn't paying attention, instead trying to focus on not breaking down. They didn't seem to notice his visible signs, only forcing him along when he slowed. They barely passed anyone else, except for the odd soldier or two. Other than that, the large facility seemed empty.

However something did catch his eye, as they turned into a wider corridor. A large window stretched across the left wall, allowing him to see into a dark room holding a single figure in white. They were tied up by the looks of it, chained at the wrists, arms outstretched to opposite corners of the room. Remington thought nothing of it, until the soldiers dragged him closer, and he could almost make out their face.

The figure glanced up. Rem's heart almost stops dead when he recognises that haircut, that sharp chin and jawline. The same recognition dawns on them, too.

 _Brother_.

"Seb!" He yells, thrashing against the soldiers. He kicks and tries to pull away, and he almost slips away. "Seb! Sebastian! Fucking let me go! Seb!"

Sebastian struggles too, pulling against the chains, but to no avail. Remington couldn't hear what he was saying, but he was shouting and nearly crying and Rem's heart shattered. He let the nervous breakdown take over.

The soldiers effortlessly forces him past. He twists in their grip, keeping his eyes on his brother as long as he could. "No! Seb!" he cries, devastation overwhelming him. In a moment of rage he plants his feet down, screaming his anger and tries so hard to fight them off, and for a moment, he thought he succeeded, one of the soldiers letting go. Within moments they slapped his cheek, so hard he was stunned into silence, and he stopped fighting. 

When they reach his cell, the soldiers swiftly shove him in, and he stumbles to the floor. They don't bother to unlock his handcuffs, instead slamming the door shut, locking it behind them. Rem jumps to his feet, hitting the door until his knuckles bled. He felt a trickle of blood drip down his head, and again from his nose, running into his eye and his mouth, but he didn't care. He cried and screamed until he ran out of energy, cursing and swearing, even attacking the camera. Fuelled by fear and fury, he was barely in control, letting his primal emotions take over.

( _burn your beds and leave you with anxiety_ )

Hours later he found himself sitting on the bed, cross legged and docile. Blood had stained his clothes, even spilling a little on the floor, but Rem barely noticed. Lost in a dreamlike state, he fiddled absently with the gas mask in his hands. He couldn't recall where he found it, but it didn't matter: it was important and he had to keep it safe, or something bad would happen.

( _sick boy soldier can't be saved_ )

This was an odd place, he thought. Odd. But quiet. It was suddenly quiet, and he liked it. And Lieseil were everywhere. They were watching. But it was quiet, and that was just enough for him to even relax a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so that's Nervous Breakdown!
> 
> This is a lot of fun to write. I love theorising about Palaye's music, the story they've created is so interesting.
> 
> Love the void. X


	3. Lost In The Mental Estate, They Say I'm Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He wished and wished and wished it was real._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Rag Doll.

It didn't feel right.

When he thought back to how he obtained the gas mask, it didn't feel _right_ , it felt off but he couldn't think why. 

( _i will lock you in your cell_ )

( _if it means i can keep you safe_ )

It was after he'd thrown his temper tantrum. Yes, that was it. After he'd let his emotions get the better of him, the door had opened, and the soldier who supervised his bath time walked in, closing the door behind them. Still riled up with sparks of anger festering inside, he went to lash out, raising his bloody fists still kept together by the handcuffs that had started to rub his wrists raw. Before he could strike, the soldier slipped off their gas mask, dropping it and holding his hands out defensively, trying to stop him from attacking.

"Remi! Rem it's me! Don't hit, don't hit!" The soldier said, panicked.

He stopped, bringing his clenched fists down, breathing hard. Taking in their long brown hair, their small dark eyes, he glared at them, fuming. They were familiar. They were someone he knew. Or were they? Were they a friend? He didn't know, he couldn't think, so lost in this rage that enveloped his rational thinking.

( _daniel, his name is daniel curcio_ )

When that knowledge sunk in, it only strengthened his anger. He said nothing, clenching his jaw and raising an eyebrow, looking for a reason why he shouldn't fight. This "Daniel Curcio" seemed to tremble under his stare, and kept his hands up in a surrender.

"Rem, listen, I can help you." He turned towards the door, as if checking no one was behind him. "They said you'd broke the camera in here, so I knew it'd be safe in here to talk."

He swiftly turned his head to where the camera laid in broken shatters after he ripped it out from the wall, then locked onto Daniel Curcio, carefully watching his every movement. When Daniel Curcio took a careful step towards him, he hopped back, raising his fists, and the soldier immediately backed up.

( _stop this you're scaring him_ )

"Look, Rem, I understand you're angry," Daniel Curcio started carefully. "But I can help you. I can help you escape." When he remained dangerously silent, the soldier started nervously talking. "I - I - I wanted to take you somewhere. It's safe, trust me. But we've got to be quick, because it won't be safe for long."

Daniel Curcio held out his hand, gently coaxing him forward. He simply tilted his head, curious and wary, fiddling with the handcuffs around his thin wrists. 

"I can take those off. But you gotta keep them on for a little while longer, okay? Just so no one suspects anything, you know? But then I can take those off." 

( _oh god please just go i want to go_ )

( _its daniel please he's safe he's safe he's safe_ )

He had to admit, the soldier grabbed his attention, no matter how wild his anger was. When he took a step forward, the soldier cowered slightly, but seemed satisfied with the progress, so he slipped the gas mask back on, and reached out to lightly take his arm. "Okay, Rem, good, that's good. It's not far, and I promise it's safe, just keep your head down and follow me."

Daniel Curcio lead him out of the cell, and locked the door behind him. He started to direct him down the corridor, greeting any soldier they passed with a brief nod. The other soldiers stared him down, and he tensed as they walked past, growling softly at them. "Hey, calm, Rem," Daniel Curcio whispered in his ear.

But he couldn't calm. He couldn't. Not while Lieseil were watching. Not while they knew. He couldn't calm, because if he did, Lieseil would _win_.

Soon enough, the soldier diverted down a thin, dark corridor, and stopped, checking for his comrades. They were alone. Satisfied, Daniel Curcio took out some keys from his pocket, quickly unlocking the cuffs and hooking them on his belt. He contemplated punching the soldier, but decided against that. He would wait and see what the soldier had to show first. Then attack later.

Daniel Curcio pushed a door open. Golden sunlight filtered in, so bright he had to cover his eyes. The soldier gestured for him to walk out, so he did, emerging onto what seemed to be a prison courtyard. Two figures sat on a bench, but once Daniel Curcio called out to them, both of their heads shot up. One was dressed in white, like he was, the other in stripes. The one in white sprinted towards him, tackling him in a hug and holding him tight. The man had run at him so fast that he almost toppled over from the impact.

The man sounded like he was crying when he spoke. "Oh my god, Remi."

( _oh seb oh fuck i'm glad you're safe i've missed you so much_ )

He stiffened in the man's embrace, unsure. He raised his arms and carefully placed them around the man's back, almost robot-like. The soldier briefly whispered some words to the one in stripes, who nibbled his fingernails in concern and watched him closely. He stared into his eyes, which only sent the one in stripes worrying more, judging by the way he shifted weight from leg to leg restlessly, the way he tugged at a thin greasy strip of his long hair.

The man pulled back from his tight hug, and cupped his face with both hands. He was indeed crying slightly, pale eyes sparkling with joy that soon crumbled into ash. "Rem?" He asked, swiping some of the blood from his eye. "Rem, what happened? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

( _i'm fine i've missed you i'm okay i'm okay please tell him i'm okay_ )

The man shook him slightly, to which he almost lost control of his temper. Instead, he twitched in anger, tilting his head to the side. He said nothing, only watching the man's expression form into one of extreme worry. The man tightened his grip on his head, but the one in stripes rested his hand on the man's shoulder, easing him away. 

The striped one pulled him into a more gentle hug, softly touching his slightly damp hair. He found himself calming down, feeling more secure in this one's embrace. The voice in his mind seemed to relax a little, too.

( _oh my god emmy i've missed you i'm sorry i shouted i'm sorry i've missed you so much little brother_ )

"Wherever your mind has gone, wherever you are now, Remi, just know that you're safe now, okay? I'm here for you," the striped one murmurs. 

Odd. He didn't want to let go. Why did he feel like that? He didn't understand. He didn't understand.

( _emerson never judges_ )

When the striped one breaks apart, the soldier promptly starts talking. "Okay, so I know I said that I can help, and I can. It's just, gonna take some time. I've been examining the guards patrol patterns, and I think I've got an idea on..."

He lost focus. His mind floated away, far, far away, his rage gone but replaced with disinterest. Daniel Curcio seemed to care about him, and the men around him, but why? Who were they? He didn't know them. He didn't know them. 

( _brothers they're my brothers and daniel is our friend_ )

Daniel Curcio's voice brought him back to reality. "Rem, um... are you listening?"

He barely nodded, staring at the soldier's small eyes. 

"Okay, good." Daniel Curcio briefly checked the watch on his wrist. "Shit, um, we're out of time. I'll have to take you all back, but I promise, I'll get you all back here as soon as I can. Rem, uh, do you mind?"

The soldier held up the handcuffs, motioned towards him. He raised his arms, absently staring at the raw skin on his wrists as the cuffs lock them together. When he glanced up, the one in stripes approached, and wrapped him in a sweet embrace. He found himself reciprocating, with more enthusiasm than with the other man.

"Hold on for a bit longer, Remi," the striped one whispers in his ear. "Just hold on, and we'll all be together again soon."

Daniel Curcio led him away, his grip light on his tattooed arm. He slipped into a mindless haze, allowing the soldier to take him wherever he pleases. When they arrive back at his cell, Daniel Curcio unlocks his handcuffs, gently guiding him back inside. The soldier closes the door behind him, handing him the gas mask he wore.

"Take it, Rem."

He took it hesitantly.

"Keep it with you. You might need it later. Also... keep it as a reminder. Of your brothers. I won't forget you, I promise."

When Daniel Curcio left, when he was all alone, he held the gas mask in his hands. Remington stared at it, confused. It didn't feel right, it felt like he was holding a small fragment of his imagination. He couldn't take his eyes off of it. _I must be hallucinating_ , he thought. _Where did I get this_?

( _you're lost in the mental estate_ )

( _sick boy soldier can't be saved_ )

When Rem drifted into an uneasy sleep later on, he dreamt of Sebastian and Emerson, of Daniel in a jumpsuit and a courtyard. He dreamt that they hugged him and talked of escape, and he wished it was real. Remington gripped on the gas mask and he wished and wished and wished it was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading!
> 
> Love the void. X


	4. I Get Lost When The Feeling Ain't Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Don't trust Doctor Man._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Sick Boy Soldier.

His voice filled the room.

It echoed and resonated in his bones. With difficulty, he stood, cringing at the awkwardness of having his arms strapped around his body. He hasn't got used to the jacket yet, but he will. He has no other choice.

In his mind's eye, he sees a figure, and the image is almost as clear to him as the plain, bright white walls of his reality. The figure is happy, smiling, singing. Their hair is messy but artfully constructed, blonde with a hint of brown growing through, while their eyes were sparkling with joy, painted in red and black, smudged and blended. Tiny crosses decorated their cheekbones. They were dressed in a fine suit of black and white stripes, and they were dancing, free to move to the music they listened to. 

He danced with them, singing, his voice rough and scratchy. He shivered a little, losing his balance, but he laughed and sang for Lieseil to hear. For his brothers to hear.

( _stuck in silence, hear no more_ )

Turning his head to the camera on the ceiling, he let a crazed smile form on his face. He knew they were watching. They always were. They could see through his eyes and they could see him from afar, safe behind the camera. He let them watch. He performed his deranged solo and he let them watch.

( _burn your beds_ )

There was once a time when Lieseil's piercing eye would terrify him. He was past the nervous breakdowns, now, instead only feeling anger. Boredom. He constantly walked on the edge of dreams, his mind wandering so often he forgets what reality is, and what real life was like beyond his white prison.

( _leave you with anxiety_ )

The only time he felt true fear where when he came. He had no grasp on time anymore, had no idea how long it was between each visit. But every time, he shook so violently with terror that, in an odd way, he felt almost like himself again. Like his true self. Like he's emerging from a nightmare. The fear reels his mind in from the moon, and he becomes complete again.

( _fly to the moon again_ )

( _lost in the mental estate_ )

The memory of the gas mask lingered only briefly in his head. It felt so long ago. The faceless soldiers, stoic and silent, took it from him, and rage sparked up inside him again, so much so that they induced sleep. So long ago did they leave him here, this pale white room, this strange new environment. They had changed his clothes, too, taking away his bloodstained attire and forcing him in a jacket that prevented him from punching the door and leaving dents, from creating any more nervous scratches on his skin.

( _how will daniel curcio find you now?_ )

( _he won't_ )

Now, he finds himself unable to recall why the gas mask was important.

( _it's not_ )

He dances around his white prison and his singing drowns out the silence and fights against the voice in his mind. More often than not, he finds that the voice is loud and violent. When he's not singing he's shouting, arguing with the voice that won't fucking _shut up_. Sometimes, he feels like it's taking over, and with it, he's never alone but he's lost, and the nightmare continues on and on and on. It's not right. Something isn't _right_.

( _my name is remington leith, i'm twenty five years old_ )

( _no you're not_ )

( _they call you x_ )

( _you are x_ )

( _you are x_ )

( _sick boy soldier can't be saved_ )

Faintly, in the edges of his perception of existence, a click sounds out. It brings him back to Earth, and his heart picks up, singing abruptly cutting off and throwing him into deadly silence. He waits, frozen still, eyes locked to the door, and when it starts to swing open, he rushed backwards, pressing his back against the wall. And he enters, a tall, menacing figure with a smile full of cruelty spreading across his face.

( _doctor man can't be trusted_ )

The first time he saw Doctor Man, his mind jumped to conclusions. A name came to mind, based on appearances, and the top hat that rests on his head. _Emerson_ , his mind said. _This is Emerson_. But he was only confused. Why would little brother cause him harm? Why would little brother laugh at his pain?

( _no one loves you like i do_ )

He cowers, shivering, back sliding down the wall and pulling his knees to his chest. Doctor Man only comes closer, towering over him and never saying a word. He never speaks in this visits, instead only observing. Only hurting. He's shaking and tears fall from his eyes, curling up as small as he could, as if that will make Doctor Man go away.

"Please don't," he whispers, but he's not entirely sure he's talking to Doctor Man. "Please let me go."

( _i will lock you away to keep you safe_ )

( _lost in the mental estate, sick boy soldier can't be saved_ )

It's quick this time and a lot less painful, but still churns his stomach with terror; Doctor Man grabs a handful of his hair and tugs his head up, cold blue eyes staring into his tearful ones. In his blurry peripheral vision, he saw something silver in Doctor Man's hand. Crying out, he kicks, aiming for the silver object, panicked, unsure if it's a needle or a knife or whatever. Doctor Man reacts fast, or was expecting him to 

( _breakdown_ )

outburst, as he swiftly grips the patient's throat, ramming it into his skin. He whimpers at the pain, shutting his eyes. Needle, it's a needle. He feels a cool liquid rush in and he squirms, skin crawling but he soon finds himself relaxing. His shaking stops. His eyes flutter open, gazing at Doctor Man sleepily. Doctor Man was smiling, this time content and seemingly pleased with the reaction he displayed.

Doctor Man speaks for the first ever time, and his voice is smooth and calming. "Can you tell me your name?"

The question catches him off guard, and he has to think. 

( _my name is remington leith_ )

( _you are x_ )

( _you are x_ )

( _you are x_ )

He suddenly understands. He understands Doctor Man's game, and Doctor Man can't be trusted. A wide grin spreads on his face, chuckling a little. "Sick boy soldier can't be saved," he says. "Doctor Man can't be trusted."

Doctor Man keeps his face neutral, but his eyes show little frustration. "Are you Remington Leith, or do you have a different name?"

But he just keeps laughing, almost mocking. He went to move his arms, but he forgot they're strapped around his torso, so he rocks a little, from side to side. "Sick boy soldier can't be saved, Doctor Man. He's lost in the mental estate."

( _you are x_ )

( _you are x_ )

( _you are x_ )

( _i am x_ )

_Who is Remington Leith_? Sounds like a name he knew, maybe once upon a time, maybe in another lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like always, thank you for reading!
> 
> Love the void. X


	5. They're Coming After Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He sees colours in the sounds._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Mr Doctor Man.

_The meds don't work_ , Remington thought to himself. _I don't know how longer I can hold on for. The meds don't work_.

( _someone else is here with me_ )

He was lost. He was trapped, surrounded by his white prison, and someone else was here. He was right where Doctor Man could get him, and he laughed. 

( _i wonder if the others are okay_ )

It hurt his head. The meds weren't working, and he felt himself slipping. He hardly slept and couldn't bear to eat, but sometimes that didn't matter. Some moments he was okay and some moments he was not. Alone, his mind went wild, overthinking and running into madness. But when he wasn't alone, he was okay. His limbs felt faint, numb, like static white noise. Sometimes he had to wiggle his fingers to make sure they were still there, tied tight around his torso. He did not exist. The meds don't work and he was too small, to insignificant. He forgot what it was like to feel whole again.

( _but sometimes it doesn't matter_ )

( _because you are x_ ) 

Doctor Man came for him again. This time there were three: he was accompanied by the faceless soldiers. Trembling, terrified, he made no effort to move, allowing the soldiers to drag him along, following Doctor Man's path. 

( _daniel where are you daniel please come back_ )

He forgot what it was like outside his white prison. He forgot how dark colours could look, how the corridors wound on endlessly, the noises other people made when they walked and talked. He forgot it all, so lost in his own mental estate that all he knew was the four walls and the roof of his own misunderstood imagination.

Doctor Man wordlessly led them into a solitary room, this one dark and grey and lonely, small but a little more interesting than his own. This one had a table in it, and two chairs, one regular, one with cuffs on the arms. The soldiers held him still as they unbuckled his arms from his body. _Freedom_! He tried to stretch his arms, grimacing at the cramps in his muscles. Before he could, the soldiers shoved him into the chair, locking his wrists in the cuffs, all while Doctor Man looked on, a tiny smile lingering on his old, wrinkled face.

He glared at Doctor Man, tilting his head. What was the meaning of this change of scenery? He didn't know if he enjoyed it or not. He didn't trust Doctor Man. He _couldn't_ trust Doctor Man.

The doctor made short work of administering another injection, again stabbing the needle in his throat and watching carefully. He closes his eyes and he shivers once, feeling the effects of the sedative settle in. He knew what Doctor Man wanted. He knew. Doctor Man needs him to be calm, or otherwise, he can't win.

( _i am x_ )

( _who is remington leith?_ )

Silence weighs heavy. Doctor Man stares, and so does he. Until he places an object on the table. A box, it's a tiny, wooden box. He gazes at it, curious. There is a small key on the side. Doctor Man turns it, opens the box, and the patient stiffens, tenses.

A gentle melody plays, filling the room and defeating the quiet. Immediately he relaxes, entranced. He watches the little figurine spin, absent minded and at complete ease. How long has it been since he's heard actual music, instead of just the music in his head? He sighs, letting the sounds envelope him, drown him. He's lost, but this time, he's surrounded by the void, a creative, imaginative void.

( _emerson i want to see emerson_ )

Doctor Man's voice finds its way to his ears. "Very interesting. That is very, very interesting."

( _stuck in a 14 hour technicolor dream_ )

( _all the blues and greys and greens_ )

An image forms in his mind. He sees the colours first, the dark red and the black and the purple. The bright yellow lights, the orange glow; they all blur together to create a vibrant setting. He's never seen something so beautiful. Something tugs on his sleeve. When he tears his eyes away from the scene, he notices a small child, staring at him with large brown eyes. The little boy's hair was spiked up and eyes smudged with makeup, and gently takes his hand, tugging him along. He lets the child lead him further into the colourful mess, gazing around with curiosity but not entirely understanding.

At the edges of his vision there were people, filling in the surrounding space and blocking out some of the colours, fuzzy and unfocused but they were definitely there. They stared and he could feel their eyes on him, piercing deep into his soul. He is unsure where to look, so keeps his head down, overwhelmed. They're getting closer, too. A simple brush against someone's arm soon turned into having to squeeze past to avoid barging into anyone. He couldn't see their faces. They were everywhere; he was surrounded. The boy paid no attention to them, guiding him through the crowd and into an empty space.

When he rounded a corner, escaping the crowd, he could finally breathe. He glanced down, but the boy had disappeared. Whirling on his feet, his eyes dart around, trying to locate him... but he caught sight of something a little more interesting and unusual.

A large mirror, framed in gold and slightly dusty. A strange reflection is staring back at him: an unfamiliar young man, dressed in a black suit, dark spiked hair, makeup smudged around the eyes. The little boy had looked like a younger version of this man, and then it came to him that the face in the glass was his own, but he didn't recognise the image. How could he know for sure that this face and body was his? No matter how long he stared, he simply couldn't identify the reflection as his. It felt wrong, this wasn't him, it can't be! His mind refused to believe it was true. 

He did not exist.

He whipped his head to his left. Music. He heard music. Faint drums kicking out a beat, guitar playing an angry tune. Forgetting the mirror, he mindlessly heads in that direction. His worries and confusion was almost entirely ceased.

Soon enough, the hazy crowd filtered back into his surroundings. Ominously watching, they were following him, lurking just out his sight. They were coming after him. They were getting in his head and he tried to block them out. He focused on the music, picking up his speed to a jog. He couldn't tell if he was running towards the music, or away from the paranoia.

Probably both.

A large group of people blocked his path. He dropped all care for manners and shoved people out of the way, breathing heavily, panic building. He didn't realise he was crying until he tasted the salty tears on his lips. A primal sense of desperation had formed in his stomach. _Music means safety_ , he thought. _If I get to the music, I'll be safe_.

He broke through the crowd, stumbling upon the front of a small stage. There were two figures on the stage, one standing and holding a guitar, strumming intensely, while the other sat behind a set of drums, waving sticks around wildly. The song they played was like nothing he's ever heard, and his mind buzzes with words, ideas, overflowing with a rush of creativity. For a wild second, the surrounding colours flash vibrantly, reds growing deeper and oranges glowing brighter, before slowly fading away. Completely. His vision turns to an odd shade of monochrome. He means to walk forward, to talk to the musicians, but his arms are suddenly stuck, feeling the cuffs around his wrists, the mad doctor's gaze upon him, and the silence.

The silence.

Doctor Man shuts the music box, throwing his mind back into reality.

( _he sees colours in the sounds_ )

"Very interesting." The doctor takes a hold of the music box, staring down at him. "I believe I know what we need to do next, Remington. I'll have you fixed in no time."

( _who is remington leith?_ )

( _i am x_ )

He pulls against the cuffs, chafing his already sensitive wrists. "You play a game, Doctor Man, and we can't trust you."

Doctor Man tilts his head. "We?" His voice hid a condescending tone.

"He can't be saved," the patient said, clear and calm, glaring at the doctor. "Sick boy soldier can't be saved, Doctor Man. We can't trust you."

( _he makes things worse_ )

The doctor says nothing for a moment. He can see the cogs working behind his eyes, but then it all stops, and Doctor Man gives him a cold smile. "Would you mind if I left you here for a minute? I have something big planned for you, but it needs a little preparation." Doctor Man heads towards the door, but before he follows the soldiers out, he gives the patient one more curious glance. "Soon, you'll learn to trust me, X. Soon, you will be fixed, and you will be perfectly shaped to our society. Just like your brothers are."

Just like that, the doctor leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a very fun chapter to write for me, I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Love the void. X


	6. Well, I'll Fly To The Moon Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Lost again_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Dying In A Hot Tub.

Lost again.

Doctor Man couldn't reach him here. He was safe here, he was alone here. He was safe from harm and, for once, Lieseil couldn't see him. A welcomed change.

On the edges of his subconsciousness, the music box played its soft song. It was his only link to the real world. The real world, where he lay on a table, under the watchful eye of Doctor Man and the soldiers, bloodstream full of the chemicals they forced into his system and bones rattling with electricity they claim is treatment. But in the dream world, in his mind, he's safe and they can't hurt him anymore.

He's not quite sure where he is, but anywhere is okay with him. His surroundings are dark, but there's dim light shining down from above, and he's vaguely aware of two people standing near him. He doesn't recognise them, but he feels at ease, comfortable around them. The one to his left was wearing a blue suit, the one to his right dressed like a pirate, a hat perched on his head. Behind them sits a bath tub. In front of them... the void-like darkness stretches on. He hears the gentle crash of water, somewhere nearby. It's a soothing sound, especially paired with the faint music box.

The longer he stares at the two men by his side, the more unsettled he feels. He doesn't know them, but... he feels like he should. He tries to jog his memory, for anything at all, but he can't quite place his finger on it. It's like an itch he can't scratch, but then it hits him all of a sudden.

_Remington Leith._

He remembers how Doctor Man called him that name. _Remington Leith_. It's a stranger's name, but it's his. At the core of his being, he's Remington Leith, he knows he is, but it doesn't mean anything to him anymore. _They call me X_. And these men are Remington Leith's brothers, just like Daniel Curcio is Remington Leith's friend. 

He thought it would be appropriate to feel some sort of relief, that his "brothers" are here. But he doesn't.

( _they're just an illusion_ )

( _spaceman in the milky way_ )

The pirate seems unsettled. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the man restlessly shifting his weight, one leg to the other, until he started walking forward, disappearing into the shadows. A splash echoes throughout the void, making him flinch at the sudden break of silence.

A gentle hand rests on his arm. He pulls away, glaring at the gentleman, but the gentleman isn't looking at him. His pale eyes are staring ahead, to where the pirate wandered. For a moment, he turns to X, eyebrows drawn together in concern, then back to the void. The gentleman waves him forward, as if to say, _Come on. Let's go find him_.

The gentleman takes slow steps, curious but hesitant, and he follows behind. Before them appears the source of the crashing waves: a large, endless body of water, going as far as he could see and beyond, a part of his void created by his dream. There's enough light to see into the water, and he's sure he sees the pirate, down in the depths... or is that just wishful thinking? He glances at the gentleman for reassurance, and he nods. Takes a step. Jumps in. And leaves X all alone.

He watches the gentleman for a moment, catching sight of his reflection in the waves. Again, he takes the form of a stranger, but yet he recognises his face this time. It's the same face he sees in his dreams, his imagination, so it must be his, and this time it's slightly different. There's different makeup around his eyes, and his hair is blonde. He's wearing a purple plaid suit, a nice change from the jacket, the black outfit from the world behind the music box. 

Without thinking, he falls into the water, joining the gentleman.

At first he's confused. He can't figure it out, surrounded by dark blue. He holds onto his breath like a lifeline, waving around. But then he sees the gentleman, by his side, and he relaxes. The gentleman is frantically looking around, trying to spot the pirate. But he's nowhere. He's disappeared entirely. _Where did he go_?

A tug on his sleeve. He whips around as fast as he could, and there the pirate was. His hat had gone, so his long dark hair spilled all around his face. He was gesturing them to follow, and he started to swim away. X, again, turns to the gentleman, to see his expression showing the same confusion. Regardless, he kicks, swimming alongside the pirate, and the gentleman catches up with them.

He wasn't sure hoe long they swam for, but it wasn't long before his lungs started to burn for air. They were in quite deep, but his brothers didn't seem to be struggling. So he held it out, willing himself on, despite the dark stars dancing across his vision. 

The pirate pointed to something resting on the sand. At first, he couldn't tell what it was, but as they got closer, he could make out a table fashioned like a clock, three chairs, other little objects, like teacups and a telephone. The pirate dove down to it. The gentleman stopped half way down, noticing that he hadn't followed. He was glancing up, desperate for air, and he was surfacing, but the gentleman stopped him, smiling at him.

_Breathe_ , the gentleman said, although no sound came out. _Just breathe_.

X shook his head, pulling away. Panic filling him, he flailed, he kicked upward, but the surface was too far away. He closes his eyes, wishing for air, to stop his burning airway, his pounding head...

Someone grabs his shoulder. They pull him up, and he can breathe again. He gulps in air, heart racing. That's it, that's all he needs. Just a little bit of air, then he can go back under again. He wants to go to the table, the little underwater tea party the pirate found. 

But when he opens his eyes, he's somewhere else.

( _i'm here and you're gone_ ) 

He doesn't even care to learn where he is. He want to go back to the void, the brothers he found in the void, the underwater tea party. His mind turns to the pirate, the gentleman, and strangely misses them. He doesn't know them. But he does, somewhere, deep inside his soul. Remington knows them. Maybe he is closer to Remington than he thought. 

_I'm here, they're gone_. Maybe Remington's brothers only existed in his dreams. _Oh well. I'll see them on the other side_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not the best, but I had fun writing this chapter.
> 
> Love the void. X


	7. Tonight I Find A Better Peace Of Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He just listens. There's nothing else to do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from You'll Be Fine.

He's unsure how long it's been. 

Time passes by in a blur. He's in a new room, although it looks very similar to the other one: it's smaller, and it has a bed. The springs press against his body and the blanket is thin, but it's a bed all the same.

That's where he spends most of his time, laying on the bed. He barely has any energy, both physically and mentally, to do anything. He doesn't sing, he doesn't dance. All he does is sleep and dream. The voice is still there, muttering and sometimes screaming, but he doesn't fight back. He can't muster up any anger, or fear for the voice. He just listens. There's nothing else to do. 

( _lost in the mental estate_ )

He is certain he's coming down with something. The tough fabric of the jacket is rather thin, and doesn't do a great job of keeping him warm. He's constantly sneezing, shivering, aching. It's not easy getting comfortable on a rock-hard bed while your arms are tied around your torso. Regardless, he curls up, and he stays there even when Doctor Man comes to check on him. 

He doesn't remember much about the experiment, or what Doctor Man was trying to achieve. He remembers the music box, and he remembers the void. And everything since then has passed in a timeless haze, the seconds flowing by like clockwork.

( _time_ )

( _lonely dreams_ )

He knows he is X. That is what they all call him. But in his dreams he is somewhat blurred with Remington Leith, and he sees Remington Leith's brothers. He takes on that identity, and whenever he wakes he is left with a strange feeling. Remington Leith is a stranger to him, locked away in his cell. Lost in the mental estate, so he could live. In his conscious mind he is X. He is X. He is X.

( _and made of paranoia_ )

When he falls asleep this time, a red and gold blur meets his eyes. In front of him, a large, thick curtain hung, hiding the mystery of what lies beyond. He finds himself sat on a sofa, one leg crossed over the other. A chandelier rests above his head, the bulbs giving off a warm glow. 

The curtain shifts slightly. He tilts his head in curiosity. Waits for a second, but it remains still. Without a second though he gets up, pushed the curtain back, but no one's there. It's an empty corridor, dimly lit but still basked in the same golden light. His footsteps are the only sound as he walks, taking in his odd surroundings. Paintings scattered the walls, intricate drawings and sketches of buildings and architecture. Remington has seen this kind of artwork before, he's sure. Why else would he be feeling a strange recognition upon seeing them?

Out of the corner of his eye, a figure moves. A brief, fleeting shadow. He follows it, fixated on the doorway where he saw it. Rushing past paintings, tables, other decorations, he burst into an empty hall. An empty hall, besides the antique piano, and the stranger gently pressing the keys in no particular melody. 

He froze, staring at the stranger, but then they lift their eyes to his, and he realises it's not a stranger, it's the pirate, smiling at him from under a top hat. The pirate approaches, his footsteps echoing softly, and gathers him into a hug. A warm, real hug. He doesn't realise he's crying until he speaks, his voice quavering from high emotions.

"I've missed you."

But it's not him talking. Not him crying. It's Remington. Remington's words, Remington's feelings. 

They've been locked away for so long that they're all rising to the surface, and he has no choice but to feel them.

The pirate simply sighs, and gently touches his hair. "Not long now, Remi. Just hold on."

It's _real_ , he's so sure of it. He feels the pirate's clothes, the long stray hairs tickling his cheek, the cold rings on his fingers. He's hit with a rush of affection for Remington's brother, this oddly dressed pirate, this talented artist and musician, this wise little brother who's probably been through the same treatment him and Remington has.

Little brother.

( _emerson_ )

The pirate shifts a little, then pulls back, looking X deep in the eyes. "You've got to be careful, Remi," he says, voice barely above a whisper. He briefly glances over his shoulder, and his expression turned serious.

X filled with dread.

"Keep an eye out for us, Rem."

He jolts awake, shivering and confused. It takes him a moment to return, his mind latching onto the pirate's face, onto the warmth and colour of that strange place. It takes him a moment to surface back into his white reality, but when he does he's anxious. He's scared. He can't stay here anymore. He doesn't want to. He wants to see Remington's brothers. He knows he'll be fine with them. But not here. Not here.

( _not while lieseil is in control_ )

And so his mind circles back to paranoia. It's Remington, he thinks. It's Remington, locked deep in his cell. Remington is upset, unsettled, and it's affecting him. He shot up from the bed, pacing. He can't lash out. He just paces, and he doesn't stop for hours.

When he does, he finds himself sitting on the floor. Cross-legged, staring at the floor, his mind is numb. He's burnt out. Somewhere on the edge of his awareness, the door swung open. He flinches a little at the slam, and he's snapped out of his stupor. 

( _can't trust doctor man_ )

He doesn't look up. Keeps his eyes trained on the floor. Whatever will happen will happen. There's no telling what Doctor Man plans, and there's no point in trying to stop him. He huffs quietly. But there's no more movement, no more sound. The silence stretches on, until a soft voice speaks, cracking with emotion.

"Remi?"

He whips his head up, and his eyes settle on a face he's only ever seen in his dreams.

It's the pirate.

He grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's been a while.
> 
> I've been struggling with writing recently, this is why it's taken me so long to complete this chapter. I don't even like this chapter that much, but it'll do. Two more chapters left, and then this story is finished.
> 
> Love the void. X


	8. But Now I Am Someone Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Locked him away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Death Dance.

The pirate rushes forward, sweeping him into his arms. "Oh my god, Rem," he breathed, his voice tinged with emotions. "You're alive."

X says nothing, but curls into the embrace as much as he could. It's strange to feel warm, physical contact that's loving and caring, not harsh and disregarding. Surprising, too, to finally lay his eyes on the pirate. It's jarring to see him in the flesh, and not just as a figment of Remington's imagination. X has always seen the pirate as fashionably dressed, makeup artfully smudged and a top hat perched on his mop of long hair. But this time he's different: no hat, dark, simple clothes, with a gas mask hooked on his belt. 

( _gas mask gas mask gas mask hang on to yourself you bastard_ )

The embrace is cut short when the pirate swiftly lifts him, cradling his thin body close. The pirate is crying, he's sure of it. He feels a tear trickle onto his forehead. He's not sure where the pirate is taking him; he has his eyes closed, leaning into the pirate's body, trying to absorb as much warmth as possible. 

( _sick boy soldier can't be saved_ )

( _pointless pointless pointlesspointlesspointless_ )

( _doctor man will find me_ )

( _lieseil are everywhere_ )

( _they see through my eyes but at least remington is safe_ )

The pirate runs down the corridors, feet thumping on the floor. He's lost. He can't find his way. He's out of breath, and X can hear his heartbeat rise. "Shit," the pirate hisses. "Sebastian?"

"Em! Here!" Another voice calls, keeping quiet. "Hurry the fuck up!"

The pirate whips around, so fast that X bashes his bare feet against the wall. He mumbles a quick apology, sprinting back the other way. "Seb!" The pirate eagerly whispers, sounding like a child. "I found him! I found him!"

The pirate stops, and someone touches his hair, his cheek. X flinches, squeezing his eyes shut, and the hand pulls away. "Rem..."

They're cut off when an alarm blares, causing the pirate to jump in shock. "Fuck," The other voice says. "Come on, we need to go."

"What about Curcio?"

"Meeting him later. He's got one more thing to do." They started moving again. "You okay?"

"Fine."

It wasn't long before they stopped, and X heard a car door opening. The pirate quickly settled him down on the seat, barely even glancing at him before jumping in the passenger seat. The other man flew into the driver's side, starting the engine and whizzing away, onto the road. X had a hard time staying upright, having no way to hold himself up.

He wasn't sure how long they drove for, or where they were going, but the entire journey was drowned in silence. There was no roof, so the wind blew his wild, messy hair all over the place. X laid back, staring at the brightest sky he's ever seen, laughing from the thrill of being free. All X has ever known is the white walls of his cell, and the distant dreamworlds of his broken mind. He can't wipe the demented smile from his face.

( _floating far away_ )

Sometimes, the pirate throws a careful glance back. But he never meets X's eyes. His gaze is tearful, face lined with worry. Makeup smudged down his cheeks. The other man isn't a lot better. He's gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white, his arms tense and his eyes locked on the road. X catches a glance of his face in the mirror. It's the gentleman, he thought. Of course it is. Remington's other brother. Of course.

Seemingly hours later, the gentleman pulled over, gently coming to a stop. X has been so overjoyed that he barely took any notice of where they are. Not that he had any idea: they'd stopped in the middle of the desert, sun scorching down upon them, the air stagnant and hot. He doesn't mind the heat. A welcomed change from the chill that lingered in his prison. He's still aching and sneezing, but he's not shivering anymore. 

( _sick boy soldier_ )

The gentleman wordlessly got out the car, and the pirate followed. The pirate wandered off, but the gentleman rounded to the back of the car, opening the door. He hesitated, slowly and carefully reaching out his hands towards X. "May I, Rem?" His shaky voice said. His pale eyes were watery, his lips pressed thin. X nodded, but didn't make a move. He watched the gentleman with a weary gaze.

The gentleman tugged at the straps keeping his arms locked around his body. Stares at them intently. Tries to figure them out. Slides into the seat next to X. Tugs and tugs. X says nothing. Allows the gentleman to set him free. "How long have they left you like this?" The gentleman whispers. X says nothing. Says nothing. Says nothing.

When the pressure loosens, he almost doesn't believe it to be true. The gentleman gazes expectantly, almost a little scared but waiting for X to react. So X stretches his arms, slowly and carefully, wincing at the ache but grateful for the freedom. And that's it. 

"Remi... what did they do to you?"

( _they locked me away in my cell_ )

( _they say i can't be saved_ )

( _i am x_ )

X shakes his head. 

"Daniel got us out. He managed to get me and Em. But... Lieseil kept such a close watch on you that we couldn't risk it. We had to be prepared. Rem... I'm so sorry. I... I... I should have _tried_..."

He pulls X close. The gentleman is sniffling, cutting himself off with quiet sobs. X thinks he's crying, too. He feels tears run down his cheeks, can taste them on his lips. A wave of distraught crashes over him and he's not sure why.

( _oh seb i forgive you big brother thank you i'm glad you're okay_ )

The gentleman rubs X's arm, absentminded, as if trying to massage the aches away. "You don't have to talk about it right away, Rem. But just know that we're here to help you. In whatever way we can, okay?" He breaks the embrace, taking a hold of X's shoulders and staring deep into his eyes. The pale eyes were bright with tears, the black hair messy around his face. "I mean everyone, okay? Monica, Daniel, Austin, _everyone_."

"I locked him away," X confessed. Remington's brother deserves to know.

( _he's locked away so i can live_ )

The gentleman's face twists into confusion. "W - what?"

X shrugged. "I locked him away." It's simple. Simple as that. But the gentleman doesn't understand.

( _he is remington's brother and he is different to me_ )

( _death dance death dance deathdancedeathdance hahahaha he doesn't understand_ )

The man's eyebrows drew together. Worry. There's worry, and there's fear. But before he says anything, his head snaps up. X slowly rotates in the seat, and the pirate is standing there. Rubbing his face and sighing heavily, he says, barely audible, "let's go now." He slides into the front passenger seat without another word, and keeps his eyes strictly staring ahead.

The gentleman nods. "Okay," he said. "Okay. We should be safe now. Let's go meet Curcio."

Not a minute later the car had started up, and they raced through the desert. X is unsure where they're headed, where they're meeting Daniel Curcio, but he's with Remington's brothers and he's heading away from Lieseil, away from Doctor Man. But Lieseil are always watching. But they don't know that.

( _they see through my eyes_ )

( _sick boy soldier can't be saved_ )

He's in their hands now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading!
> 
> This chapter concludes the story. The final part will be the epilogue, and that's it!
> 
> Love the void. X


	9. Epilogue: Love The Void, My Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Oh, how Lieseil has destroyed us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Love the Void.

The cold night air was refreshing, a full moon hanging bright in the sky. Sebastian stared at it, absent. His mind was both racing endlessly and completely numb. All his emotions seemed to have drained away, never to be seen again.

He almost couldn't bare to stay inside anymore, not with the atmosphere so thick with unease. So he decided to remove himself. The front driveway of Austin's house was definitely unoccupied, so that is where Sebastian sat, the silence a blessing and a curse.

His phone sat turned off by his side. He's just had a conversation with Larisa. He explained everything. There was so much stress building up inside that he didn't know who else he'd feel comfortable spilling everything to. Larisa, the angel she is, patiently listened and did her best to support. And now Seb is completely numb, but everything is replaying in his head, over and over and all he wants now is to drink it all away.

_Rem doesn't recognise us._

It was clear the moment Daniel guided Remington out into the courtyard, risking everything to bring them together for a brief moment. His little brother stared with blank brown eyes and spoke no words. Flinching away from his touch, barely listening to anyone speak. Sebastian couldn't help but ponder: what had happened in that short amount of time to reduce him to a mental state so unstable he barely recognised his family?

Just having that thought makes his stomach turn with guilt. He knew more than anyone how fragile his little brother's mind was. Maybe more so than Emerson. He always did his best to watch out for Rem, to make sure he was feeling okay, make sure he was functioning normally, even if Rem did tend to confide darker secrets to Emerson more often. He didn't mind. As long as Remi was happy. As long as Em was happy. He was the oldest, it was his responsibility to look after his siblings.

_It's all my fault._

He should have tried harder. He should have believed Rem's nervous rambling, because he was right. He was right and now he's gone. The true Remington. That person is nowhere to be found. They went to rescue Remington, and they found a gaunt, broken individual, who's ribs stuck out just a little too much, who mumbled the meaningless phrases that rattled through his head.

Where do they go from here?

He _has_ to fix this.

Sebastian shot up, scooping his phone up, briefly reading the message he received from Larisa before shoving it in his pocket.

_Try and get some sleep, darling. Call me in the morning? Love you, stay strong xx_

A small smile inched across his face as he entered the house, immediately grateful to get out of the cold breeze. Austin's house is almost entirely dark except for the dim light coming from the kitchen, so that is where Sebastian heads. There he finds Austin and Curcio, silent, reading over some papers on scattered across the kitchen table.

They don't hear him approach, so Sebastian announces his presence with a soft, "Hey."

Both of their heads snap up, glancing at him. "Hey Seb," Daniel murmurs. He gestures at an empty chair, which Seb quickly takes.

"How is he?" He asks tentatively. He almost didn't want to ask.

"He's okay," Austin whispers, after a pause. "Em's with him, he's still asleep."

Sebastian nodded. Good. That was good to hear.

Before he could say anything, Curcio pats a folder laying in front of him. "Hey, I think you might want to read this. And this." He picks up another folder, this one significantly thicker than the other one. "You know I said I had to do something? I was getting these. Couldn't leave them in Lieseil's hands."

"What are they?" Sebastian picks up the thinner one, opening it. So tired was he that at first glance, the words blurred together.

"Patient files." Daniel's voice was so quiet Seb barely heard him. "Um... Emerson has his. That's yours. This one's Rem's."

Sebastian had to squint in order to read it in the dim light, but he managed. The file read:

**PATIENT Z:  
NAME: Sebastian Danzig  
AGE: 27  
STATUS: Important   
HEALTH: Mostly stable, more observation is required.   
RELATIONS: X, Y  
NOTES: Known to assault with deadly weapons.**

"What?" He mutters, half in shock. What did this mean?

"It's okay, I don't get it either," said Austin.

"No, no." It doesn't make sense. "What? What does this... mean?" Stared at Daniel expectantly.

"All I know is that you were all important to them," Daniel said with a shrug. "They never told me anything. Never trusted me with anything. You... you might want to read this one."

He slides the thicker folder over, gesturing Seb pick it up. He did. He opened it. Read it once, twice, three times, just to make sure he was reading it correctly.

**PATIENT X:  
NAME: Remington Leith  
AGE: 25  
STATUS: Very important   
HEALTH: Believed to be suffering severe psychosis and fractures in personality. Highly unstable, handle with caution.  
RELATIONS: Y, Z  
NOTES: Can be controlled by playing music.**

_Severe psychosis. Fractures in personality._

Sebastian threw the folder back on the table as if it just burnt him. Took a shaky breath, tears welling again in his eyes. 

"Listen, we're in this together," Daniel whispered, so soft and gentle Seb almost didn't believe he was talking. "I took a load of other files that can maybe help us figure out how to get Rem back. It's gonna be hard, but we'll get there."

"I hope." Sebastian wiped away a tear rolling down his cheek. "I hope we do."

\--

Watching his brother sleep restlessly made Emerson bristle with anger. 

Remington tossed and turned, face twitching as if he's having a nightmare. Arms littered with half-healed scratches, a gash on his forehead, needle wounds in his neck... Emerson could only imagine what kinds of torture Lieseil put his kind, sweet brother through. 

Never has he ever trusted Lieseil, or Warhol, or any of them. Never. In some, twisted way, he's not surprised that they've done this to Rem. Fuck, they shocked him to no end when they kidnapped them. What's to say they wouldn't dabble into electric therapy? What's to say they wouldn't pump a patient's bloodstream full of drugs to the point of near overdose, just because they can?

They arrived at Austin's house hours ago, and Remington had been so tired he almost passed out in Sebastian's arms. So they let him sleep. Emerson wordlessly offered to watch over him. No one protested. He was left alone, sitting on the chair beside Austin's bed. Relentlessly chewing his nails. Remington slept, but he couldn't. Nowhere even close.

At some point, Daniel had come in, and handed him a folder. "I don't know if you wanna see this or not, but, here," he had said, quiet. Emerson took it, eyes never leaving his brother's face. He didn't even hear him leave.

The folder sat by his side, unread, but all of a sudden Emerson swiped it up, curious. When he opened it up, reading it once, he chucked it across the room, the paper pages spilling all over the floor.

**PATIENT Y  
NAME: Emerson Barrett  
AGE: 23  
STATUS: Important   
HEALTH: Mostly stable. Believed to be suffering delusions about "creating heaven on earth," the "void" and other philosophical concepts.  
RELATIONS: X, Z  
NOTES: Highly intelligent. If trained, can be of valuable use.**

_Fuck them. Fuck. Them._

His burst of rage woke Remi. His brother shifted, blank brown eyes fluttering open. He sat up, settled his gaze onto Emerson's face. Tilted his head, innocently curious. He said nothing, and neither did Emerson.

"Rem," Emerson stuttered, after a moment of staring. "H - how are you feeling?"

Remington only continued to stare, eyes narrowing. "Pirate," he whispered. "You're the pirate."

"My name is Emerson." _We're not dealing with Remington anymore. We're dealing with a stranger._

"He told me that. He shows me your face at night."

"Who?" _Maybe I need to talk to him on a level he can understand._

" _Him_. I locked him away, you know."

Emerson's eyes burned with tears he refused to let spill. "And what's your name?" His voice shook. _Too many emotions._

"They call me X." 

"Right." His brother seemed nervous, hands clenching and relaxing. Every now and then, his eyes flit down to the scratches on his arms. Emerson reached out and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Remi flinched a little, but allowed Emerson to touch him. "Can you tell me what they did to you in there?"

Remi's expression was absent, and he only shook his head. "Don't trust Doctor Man," he whispered.

"I don't," Emerson said, in reassurance. 

Remington nodded, ever so slightly. "He can't be saved."

_It's like talking to a child, in some ways_. "We can try."

He wasn't sure what he expected to happen, but he certainly didn't expect Remington to pull him into a hug, wrapping his thin arms tight around his neck. Emerson immediately reciprocated. He finally lost the battle, the tears spilling freely down his face. 

"He trusts you a lot," Rem said, so quiet Emerson could barely hear him, despite his lips being so close to his ear. "You make him feel safe."

He could only nod.

He was unsure how long they remained like that, but Emerson didn't want to pull away. He found himself breaking down in his brother's arms, overwhelmed. Everything was too much. The wall holding his emotions back was destroyed, and he couldn't stop them from flowing. 

_Oh, how Lieseil has destroyed us._

However full of rage his soul was, Emerson was more than relieved. His brother was okay. Very broken, but he would be okay. And they could only go up from here.

\--

_The darkness will only cover my soul,  
And dreams of Lieseil are vogued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so this is the end.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read, left a comment, left kudos! I appreciate it so much!
> 
> Love the void. X


End file.
